


Man On A Mission

by Living_Free



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Batfamily, Big Brother Dick Grayson, Crack, Cute Damian Wayne, Damian Wayne Needs a Hug, Damian Wayne is Flamebird, Dick Grayson is a bottom confirmed, Dick gives all the hugs, Family Feels, Fluff, Gen, Humor, Jason Todd Has Issues, Jason Todd Needs A Hug, Jason Todd is Alive, M/M, Mad scientist Tim Drake, Mega Twink Tim Drake, Protective Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake is Gotham's version of BNHA Mei Hatsume, Tim Drake is Robin, batbros, but cute, everyone gets along, everyone is dramatic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2019-09-10
Packaged: 2020-06-24 12:49:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19724014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Living_Free/pseuds/Living_Free
Summary: A different meeting between Damian and his brothers, in a universe where everyone is a little more affectionate and a lot more silly.Talia sends Damian to Gotham with Jason, who has his own agenda (vengeance, angst, etc.). Enter Dick Grayson, who just wants to bring his Little Wing home and fix his family.Starring Jason as Angst Boi 3000, Damian as Wonder Brat, Dick as Fluff Monster Extraordinaire, and Tim as The Voice In Your Ear.Let the shenanigans begin!





	1. Chapter 1

The moonlight-dappled silhouette of the Nightwing, a.k.a. Dick Grayson-Wayne, flew across the Gotham skies as he jumped from rooftop to rooftop, a man on a mission.

The mission in question? Find Little Wing, newly back from the dead and being a bit evil, and convince him that his big brother loved him very much.

Bruce was very much against this plan, but Tim had helped Dick track the Red Hood down, and Alfred had passed on a baggy of food to give to Jason, because he was concerned that poor Jason might not be getting all his nutrients.

"Head due east for two blocks once you enter Crime Alley," Tim's voice crackled in Dick's ear. "His current flat is in the third building, seventeen floors up."

"Thanks, Babybird," Dick grinned. Oh, he couldn't wait to see his Jaybird again! "We'll get your big brother home soon!"

"You're my big brother, Dick," Tim said, his voice amused.

"Your other big broher," Dick clarified. "I'm here," he said, landing on Jason's kitchen window. "I'll keep the connection going, but observe only, okay?"

"Okay," Tim chimed. "Going quiet."

Dick gently shimmed the window open and spotted all manner of booby traps awaiting him. Clever Jaybird! Dick avoided them and slipped in, quietly padding into the main room. "Jason?" He called quietly. "Jaybird? Are you home? It's me- oh!"

Dick stopped short as the bedroom door opened to reveal a small boy wearing an oversized t-shirt, holding a sword and in battle stance. Dick froze, and slowly lifted his hands to show that he meant no harm. "Hi," Dick said in his gentlest voice. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"A likely story!"

Dick couldn't help his lips quirk up in a smile. "I'm really not. I'm looking for someone else. His name's Jason-"

"Oh, Todd," the boy said. "Why are you looking for him?"

"Well," Dick said, "he's my baby brother, and I heard that he'd come back-"

"From the dead, yes," the boy nodded. "I helped dunk him into the Lazarus Pit to revive him. He is a very awkward swimmer."

Dick barely restrained himself from gasping. The Lazarus Pit! So it was the League of Assassins who had got him! So this little boy...

"Are you from the League of Assassins?" Dick queried.

The child nodded. "Correct. And clearly, you are the Nightwing, Richard Grayson."

Dick nodded. Of course he would know. "That's right. Can I know your name?"

The boy puffed his tiny chest out proudly. "I," he said, "am Damian Al Ghul, Ninja First Class, Son of Talia Al Ghul, the Demon's Daughter, Grandson of The Demon himself!"

Oh, so this was Talia's kid. So why was he living with Crime Alley in Jason, wearing what appeared to be Jason's shirt as a nightdress? "It's lovely to meet you," Dick said carefully. "Can I ask why the, um, Revered Heir to the Demon is living with Jason?"

Damian beamed at the form of address. "I suppose there is no harm telling you, as you will surely find out sooner rather than later. Mother has tasked Todd to bring me to my father, with whom I shall reside forevermore, and inherit his mantle as the Keeper of Justice!"

His life just couldn't be easy, could it, Dick wondered ruefully, as he heard Tim's snort of disbelief in his ear echo his thoughts. "Let me guess," Dick asked, "Bruce Wayne?"

"Indeed!" Damian declared, bouncing happily.

Dick felt his heart melt at the sight, this child that was so clearly happy to be reunited with his apparently oblivious father. "Bruce will be so happy," Dick said, dearly hoping that this was true. "Nevertheless, I'm thrilled to find out that I have another little brother."

Damian stopped smiling and stared at Dick. "You- are glad?"

"Of course!"

Damian squinted suspiciously at him. "You aer not hreatened by my presence as the blood son, taking the cowl of the Bat?"

"Sweetie, if I wanted Bruce's sweaty cowl, then I'd have taken it over by now," Dick giggled. Oh, he should remind Bruce to do his laundry. "I'm the Nightwing, and that's my identity I made for myself. I wouldn't give it up for anything."

Damian continued to stare, looking absolutely adorable in his overlarge t-shirt robe, sword hanging limply at his side. "Oh. You're...not lying."

"Of course not," Dick smiled.

"But...Mother said that the cowl had been usurped by an impostor that now sat at the head of the family, and that I must execute him to seal my position!"

Dick's jaw dropped as his brain went into overdrive. "Are you talking about Timmy?" Dick asked.

"That's the one! Timothy Drake!"

Dick burst out laughing. "Wow, that's so far off the mark. Timmy hasn't usurped anything, Damian, he's the CEO of Wayne Enterprises because Bruce saw that he's better suited to the business than he was. Besides, it gives Bruce more time to devote to the Batman, since Tim is only Robin. And besides," he said smiling fondly, "Timmy is very involved in the R&D department. He needs a creative outlet to make all his little weapons."

"Mother said-"

"Tim hasn't usurped a thing in his life," Dick giggled. "If you asked, he'd probably throw the business as you and then run off to grow coffee beans and live with Superboy."

"Yay!" Tim cheered. "I have a successor!"

"Tim's very happy that he's getting a successor," Dick said, showing Damian his earpiece. "Do you want to talk to him?"

Damian's eyes popped as he gave an aborted nod, and allowed Dick to hold the earpiece out to Damian.

"H-hello? Drake, this is Damian Al Ghul, of the House of Al Ghul, Ninja First Class."

"Hiya," Tim said. "I'm Tim, of the House of, er, Tim, soulmate of Superboy," Tim said. "If you're serious about taking over, I'll train you and groom you to a leadership position, so that Kon and I can run off and live on the Bahamas, grow genetically modified coffee beans, and end world hunger..."

"Er," Damian said, flummoxed by this new person. He had been told to expect a cold, cruel, and cut-throat man, whom he would have to defeat in single combat. This Drake was...not any of those things.

"...and I'll use my oodles of money and philanthropy to end income inequality and raise the standard of living to the point at which petty crime will be eliminated, and then Kon and I can live in peace on a hammock tied to two palm trees. It'll be just the two of us and our three kids in our little mansion, and you guys will all have rooms, of course-"

This was unexpected, Damian thought, as he looked incredulously at a giggly Dick, who placed the earpiece back in his ear. "Convinced now?" He asked. "All Tim wants to do is to solve world problems and live on a romantic island with his secret boyfriend."

"Secret?"

"Oh, yes, because Bruce won't let Tim date until he's twenty-one," Dick sniggered.

"He won't let Drake have a boyfriend, but will let him lead offworld missions to space?" Damian asked.

"Once you see Timmy, you'll understand," Dick said. "But I want to know more about my new baby brother," Dick grinned. "Can we chat for a bit?"

Before Damian could answer, his stomach gave a loud growl. He blushed in the face of Dick's concerned gaze.

"Are you hungry?" Dick asked. "Didn't you eat dinner? It's eleven at night, surely Jason would have fed you-"

"Bah! What he prepared could not be classified as food!" Damian cried. "Todd insisted that I eat some curly strands of flour in salty oil-water and called it a meal!"

Dick frowned. "He fed you instant ramen? Oh my god." Dick walked back into the kitchen and took stock of the bare cabinets and fridge. "Okay, I'm going to go and get some groceries, alright? Dick said. "Meanwhile, you can get started on this food," he said, handing Damian Alfred's boxed lunch. "Alfred made it."

"Eh?"

"Alfred Pennyworth. He's our butler-grandpa. Oh, he'd love to meet you!" Dick trilled. "He's been dropping hints to me and Bruce about getting him either more grandchildren or great-grandchildren."

Damian was looking hungrily at the boxed lunch, so Dick opened it up and set it on a plate he'd found. "Eat up, I'll get some groceries, and then we can make a proper meal, alright? Be right back!"

Dick returned in record time, but this time through the main door and in his civilian clothes, bearing bags upon bags of groceries. "Hi Dami!" Dick grinned, dodging yet more of Jason's bobby traps. "What do you want to eat?"

Damian looked at the groceries and pulled out some ingredients. "Can we have pita with hummus?" He asked innocently. "I know how to make hummus, Grandfather taught me his own special recipe."

Dick beamed. "Of course! Let's get to work."

***

Jason re-entered his home after a long night of some cheeky murder (of evil, he wasn't a bad guy, after all), only to find the brat awake and in the kitchen, with Dick Hecking Grayson of all people.

Heck.

Jason slammed the door shut, but failed to startle Dick or Damian. Damn Bat instincts. "What are you doing in my house!" Jason thundered.

Dick turned, his eyes filled with tears. "Jaybird!" He cried. "Oh, Jaybird, you've come home! To me!"

Jason could scarecly move before he was tackle hugged by Dick, who then proceeded to make his shirt damp by crying copious salty tears on his chest. "I love you, Jaybird!"

"Get off!"

"I missed you, Jaybird!"

"Dick, I will shoot you-"

Jason looked at Damian, who was watching the scene from the kitchen counter with impassive eyes, his mouth stuffed with pita and hummus. "Brat! Do something!" Jason yelled. "Your guardian is under attack!"

"You are no guardian of mine, Todd!" Damian declared. "No true guardian would feed an Al Ghul scion boiled starch sticks in salt water! Grayson," and here Damian paused to gaze at Dick with adoring cow eyes, "went to the bazaar and brought me actual food! We made hummus!"

"You can have hummus too, Little Wing," Dick said eagerly.

"No! Let him eat the starch curls!"

Jason had had enough. He used his bulk and flipped Dick over, and subdued him by placing his entire butt on his back. "That's it! Damian, go to your room!"

"I have no room!" Damian cried. "We have a mattress that I share with you and spend each night in the fear of being squished into Al Ghul sauce by your massive bulk! I want to go home!"

Jason groaned, realizing that he had an emotional, scared child - his adopted brother, good lord - on his hands. From the floor where he was squishing Dick's face to the ground, Dick rallied and squiggled just enough to free his mouth from the floor.

"Hug him, Little Wing!"

Jason looked down incredulously. "Haven't you suffocated yet?"

Dick squiggled some more so that he could twist his neck at an ungodly angle to stare soulfully at Jason. Flexi-freak, Jason thought, horrified.

"He's a kid, Jason, he needs comfort! You should hug him!"

"You hug him!"

"Okay!"

Jason sighed, rolling his eyes, as Dick continued to worm around beneath him. What was he going to do?

Option 1: Release Dick and have him deal with Damian, secretly filch food while D & D were having their snuggle fest.

Option 2: Continue sitting on Dick, call Damian over and hug him himself, then maybe get some food later.

Option 3: Kill Dick (not appealing, really, nor realistic. There was a reason that Jason avoided Dick and his bouncy fighting style, he'd never been able to match up to his frenetic pixie style of battle), take Damian and scarper to new hideout.

After debating all three options, Jason came to a decision. "Damian, come here," he called. A sniffling Damian came forward and pouted.

"What?"

Jason sighed, while Dick wriggled excitedly underneath him, having caught on to Jason's plan. Stupid intuitive Dickhead. "Damian, I'm sorry I haven't been taking care of you," Jason said.

"Like a big brother!" Dick piped up.

Jason glared and ground his butt down harder onto Dick, who petered off with a squeal. Damian looked haughtily at Jason. "You don't care at all, and why would you? All you care about is enacting your plans for chaos and vengeance. I bet you never planned to take me to father at all!"

Oh no, they were getting back into hysterical territory again, Jason thought, panicking.

"I helped to drag you into the Lazarus pit at the age of six!" Damian seethed. "My assassins, my mother, we gave you a new life, and this is how you treat me!"

Jason felt a guilty pang in his gut. Damn, but the kid was right. Talia had been more than decent towards him, for all that he was a tool to her.

But Damian was far from done with his emotional rollercoaster. "Oh the indignity!" Damian wailed. "For I, a scion of the House of Al Ghul, am treated like a burden, a secondary thought! Mother has sent me away, my Father knows not of me, and no one cares about me!"

"I care, Dami!" Dick squeaked. With the power of his love, he overthrew Jason and rushed to comfort Damian. "I've know you for only one hour and I love you!" He wailed along with Damian.

Jason sighed heavily and let the two emotional marshmallows cling to each other and cry, and thought of his next steps. The cat (Damian) was out of the bag. His clever plans to emotionally manipulate Bruce with his real son were out the window now, there was no way that Dick didn't have an earpiece in. The man was a sentimental lovebug, but a practical sentimental lovebug.

"Okay, so here's the plan," Jason said, clapping his hands. Dick and Damian both looked up. "Damian, you want to stay with Dick, right?"

"What I want, Todd, is to achieve my potential-"

"Blah blah blah. Right, whatever. And I can't afford to see Bruce again before I'm ready. So," Jason grinned, "the best way that I can make both these things happen on my terms is to hold Dick hostage!"

Dick gasped like the shocked pikachu that he was.

Damian gasped happily, because yay he got a new Grayson, how amazing.

"You hear that Bruce?" Jason yelled into Dick's ear. "You want your baby boys, you come and get them!"

The earpiece crackled. "Um..." Tim's voice came out, slightly unsure, "this is Tim. Bruce is in the bathroom, can I take a message?"

"Alright Replacement, you tell Bruce exactly what you heard. Oh, and you better watch your skinny neck too."

"The hell, what'd I do?" Tim whined. "All I wanted was to use my prolific intellect and bundles of money to fix everyone's problems, and this is how I'm repaid? My long lost adopted brother whom I never knew apart from fleeting glances across posh ballrooms now thirsts for Timmy's blood. Mucho sad."

Jason listened to Tim's continuing spiel and looked at Dick. "Is he always like this? This is not what I expected, for a father stealing usurper."

Dick shrugged. "Timmy has certain priorities and goals."

"-and also how dare you threaten me, I will eat you," Tim continued. "I don't need to watch my neck, YOU watch YOUR neck, my secret boyfriend can break you into bitesized pieces for Timmy to feast on with ketchup- oh hey Bruce. No, it's for you. Your estranged son is holding Dick captive to look after your biological son because he's too involved with his own agenda to care for a kid."

"What?" Jason startled at hearing Bruce's normal, non-Batman voice. "Jason did what? I don't have a biological son. Do I? No, I'm sure I don't, I always wrap my- Dick! Dick, son, can you escape your bonds!?"

Dick who was being snuggled by Damian, who was firmly situated on his lap, hemmed and hawed. "Er...I don't think so, it's inescapable!"

"What ho, father!" Damian called. "It is I, Damian Al Ghul, son of your loins! I am looking forward to seeing you and inheriting your mantle!"

"...Al Ghul?" Bruce's pitch ticked up several notches. "Talia's son? Talia and I- what?"

"He really looks a lot like you Bruce," Dick said. "He's adorable."

"Thank you, I am worthy of adoration."

"Oh my God," Bruce squeaked in horror. "Jason you horrible boy, release Dick at once!"

"Come and get him, Batman," Jason sneered. "Every second you waste is another minute your golden son is in my captivity, under my tender care." Jason reached over and pinched Dick's arm, hard.

"OW!"

"STOP!" Bruce hollered. "I won't let you get away with this! Dick, hold on, I am coming for you!"

"Okay," Dick called back, as Jason flicked his ear. "Ow! Jason!"

"Ooooh, now you're in for it," Tim called. "Bruce is going to whoop your large ass to high heaven. And to think that I used to deeply admire you! Bah! You have forgone Timmy's previous affections towards your person and have earned my unending ire, sir."

"You admired me? When?" Jason asked, confused.

"...I didn't say that."

"Yes you did, you maniacal mongoose! How did you know me?"

"..."

"Timmy used to follow us around and take pictures when we were on patrol," Dick provided. "I saw him a couple of times and put him on the bus to go home."

"The hell! You little creep!"

"Can't stop won't stop," Tim said, sounding smug. "Alfie, come say hello, Jason is up to something."

Jason swallowed a lump in his throat as he heard the beloved butler shuffle forward. "Master Jason," Alfred said.

"H-hey, Alfie."

"Oh, my boy," Alfred said sadly. "What mischief are you up to that you cannot find the time to visit your poor old grandfather?"

Aw fuck, the guilt was real. "Eek, I'm sorry Alfie. I'll come and get you and set you up real nice with all the drug lord money that I have."

"Little Wing!" Dick gaped. "You run a drug empire?"

"Yeah. I keep the drugs off the streets of Gotham and away from kids. It's a front, see, I'm actually a great guy."

Dick's eyes brimed with proud tears. "I knew that your soul was pure, Jaybird!"

Jason huffed and focused on Alfred. "So, Alf, where do you want to retire?"

"Retire! Egads Master Jason, I am hardly quite so decrepit as to retire, by Jove, oh I say-"

"Ooh, you've done a goof, Little Wing," Dick said, his eyes wide.

"I'm sorry Alf, I won't make you retire," Jason said quickly, "I just want to take care of you."

"Oh, but there is so much more that I have to do," Alfred said, "including looking after my shiny, new, youngest grandchild. Hello Master Damian, I hope to have you home soon."

Damian grinned. Someone wanted him to come home! He was truly wanted! "What ho, Pennyworth. Mother did not tell me that you also lived with father."

Of course she didn't, Dick and Jason thought, exchanging wry looks. Talia wouldn't think to mention someone that she thought was a servant. Really, how dare she. Alfred was the Big Daddy of the house.

"Young man, I raised your father," Alfred said gently.

"Truly?" Damian asked, his legs swinging in a childlike manner. It was too cute, Dick looked at Jason and smiled toothily. Jason looked away because he would otherwise vomit on top of Dick, and he didn't hate the guy that much.

"Truly," Alfred intoned seriously.

"You must be very old, Pennyworth," Damian said in awe. His own Grandfather was also very old, but he was very fit, thanks to multiple regenerations in the Lazarus Pit.

"Not quite so crotchety as people think, Master Damian," Alfred chuckled. "But I should prepare a room for you! Ah, you must excuse me, I must open up the Pearl Room-"

"Pearl room?" Damian asked.

"Yeah, all the rooms are themed in the manor," Dick explained. "You're going to have the pearl room. Timmy is in the Ruby room, I stay in the Sapphire room, and Jason-" Dick looked sad. "Jason has the Emerald Room."

"And Father?"

"Bruce just stays in the master bedroom, there's only one in the manor, for the lord of the house, as he was known in Victorian times."

Damian hummed thoughtfully. "What a nice naming system," he said. "I look forward to going home. Todd!"

"What!"

"When can we stop this charade? I want to go home!"

"When I accomplish my goals," Jason said.

"Your goals are torturous and foolhardy," Damian announced to all and sundry. "Why do I have to stay and be witness to your convoluted plans for vengeance? Grayson and I can go home and come back in the morning."

"That completely nullifies the whole point of Dick being a hostage."

"Dick is no one's hostage."

The Batman stood silhouetted by the kitchen window. He cut an imposing figure, enough to cause most high class villains soil their trousers at the mere sight of him.

Jason, however, had years of watching Bruce fail at using a toaster, and merely snorted.

Father and son faced off, batarangs at the ready, fists cocked (Jason would not use a gun with Damian and Dick in such close proximity. He didn't dare. Bruce's lessons had sunk in enough).

The tension was shattered when Damian gasped happily and ran forward, pushing Jason roughly out of the way to stand in front of Bruce. "Father! You have come to take me home at last, as I knew you would!"

Bruce looked down at the bouncing child in front of him, feeling slightly bemused. He studied the small face in front of him, and oh yes, there was no doubt about it, he was definitely Bruce's child.

That nose, though. Bruce wondered where that little button nose had come from.

"Father, why do you stare at my face thusly?" Damian asked curiously.

"Oh, er, I was just wondering, well..." Bruce looked at Dick who was glaring at him and mouthing threats, "the nose."

"Oh!" Damian resumed grinning. "Mother said that it flattened out because I was left in my first incubation tank for too long, and my face got smushed up against the glass."

"You were grown in a tank?" Bruce asked, horrified.

"Indeed!" Damian beamed. "My most vicious mother had need to murder several ne'er do wells, and thus could not gestate me. But I was conceived of yours and her genetic material!"

"Oh," Bruce said, a bit at a loss. He looked at Dick, who had used the time to subdue Jason, and was now mouthing, 'pick him up!' rather obviously.

Bruce picked Damian up, and Damian hung limply in his hands, his little feet swinging. "Er, you're supposed to wrap your arms around my neck and your legs around by hips," Bruce instructed. Damian hurried to cling to Bruce like a koala, and looked proudly up at him.

By this time, Dick had fully laid atop Jason like a starfish to subdue him, with Jason doing his best to not let their crotches touch.

"Aw yeah, the fam's all together," Tim's voice crackled out of Dick's earpiece. "Apart from Timmy, of course, but Timmy's used to being ignored and neglected. I'll find happiness in that of others', as is customary now. And then, I'll die."

"Oh god," Jason said, feeling distinctly awful. "I don't think I want to kill him anymore," he said, "his own life seems hellish enough."

"Tim, take your medicines please," Dick instructed.

"Num num num," Tim said through the crunching sounds of several pills in his mouth. Then, "Broooose?"

Bruce sighed. "Yes, Tim?"

"Can you pick up a pack of my meds for me on the way back pweez~?"

"Sure, Tim," Bruce sighed.

"Aw yeah, Timmy lives to see another day filled with anxiety and mild depression, hashtag win."

"Oh my god, he's so sad," Jason said. "Now he's made me sad."

"Are we going home now, Father?" Damian asked.

"We are," Bruce confirmed, wanting to run Damian's DNA as soon as possible. Not that the boy would ever find out, though. "But I cannot leave Jason here. He has broken several laws, up to and including drug manufacturing, drug trafficking, manslaughter, and murder."

"So much murder," Jason said proudly.

"But you should be happy," Damian said innocently. "Todd has dispensed justice in a most efficient manner, and his shootings aim to minimize blood splatter so as to limit the cleanup for the investigators afterwards."

Bruce nearly swallowed his tongue at Damian's assessment. "We do not kill."

"Why?"

Oh lord.

"Because it solves nothing," Bruce said. "It only causes more pain. Think about it this way - if you kill a man who has killed someone else, then you've only caused more loss of life. If you give the man a chance to repent and reflect on his actions, then you will have given rise to a new conscience."

"Besides," Dick said earnestly, "killing is a permanent thing that can mar your soul," he said, his eyes wide.

"Oh for fuck's sake," Jason grumbled, rolling his eyes.

"I killed someone once," Dick went on, "and it weighed terribly on my soul. Even if it was only the Joker."

"Say what?" Jason asked quickly, his world having been upended in a split second. "You did what?"

"Later," Dick said, "I am explaining the metaphysical impacts of negative acts on the soul." He turned back to Damian. "So you see, its partly a selfish reason that I don't encourage killing - it places a burden on your pure soul, and you have so much life to live and to grow, I don't want something icky and bad staining your experiences!"

"How is it that you can explain metaphysical features of the living universe and still use the word icky?" Jason wondered. "You are truly an idiot of incredible proportions."

"Jason stop being mean to meeee!" Dick whinged, and Jason could practically hear the sad emoji in his voice.

"I'll consider it if you explain what you meant when you said that you killed the Joker," Jason bargained quickly.

"Okay!" Dick chirped. "Let's go out to get ice cream, and I'll tell you about it!"

"Stop trying to make this a bonding activity."

"No, that's a great idea," Bruce said. "Dick, you bond with Jason, and I'll take Damian home. Damian," Bruce said, "do you have any belongings?"

"I do," Damian said, "they are in Todd's dilapidated bedroom." Suddenly, Damian perked up. "Would you like to see my swords, Father? I earned them after I traversed Death Mountain at the age of five-"

Damian dragged a hapless Bruce into the bedroom by his hand, describing Death Mountain in all it's lurid detail, leaving Jason to Dick's tender mercies.

"Okay, noob, explain yourself," Jason demanded.

"Oooh, Jaybird, it was awful and so gory," Dick said lowly. "I punched the life out of him because he brought you up, I got so mad-"

Bruce came out with Damian at that moment, with the boy lugging his sword collection and a couple of Jason's shirts with him.

"Hey! Stop taking my clothes!" Jason cried.

"Silence, Todd! It is your fault that my baggage was lost in transit to begin with! Now I am claiming your clothes as recompense!"

"Let's just go," Bruce muttered. "Tim is waiting to train you and has already booked tickets to the Bahamas five years from now."

"And you're alright with that?" Dick asked curiously.

"Five years is a long time," Bruce shrugged. "Anything can happen by then. Like, say, Bruce Wayne buying all the commercial airlines."

Dick waved goodbye to Bruce and Damian, and turned back to Jason. "It's lucky that Bruce doesn't know about Superboy, huh?"

"Yeah, Tim could just ride him to the Bahamas," Jason smirked cruelly at Dick's horrified expression.

"No! No dirty jokes about Timmy!"

"I'll stop if you tell me about the Joker dying, and how he didn't stay dead."

Dick looked sheepish. "Well, that last bit was actually Bruce's doing..."

Jason sighed heavily and settled in for the story of a lifetime.


	2. Chapter 2

  
Meanwhile, Damian was having the slightly surreal experience of meeting Tim Drake for the first time.

He did not think it possible, but Drake was almost prettier than Grayson, with his large, pale eyes, porcelain skin, tiny pink lips and long raven hair. He was built like a geisha, slim and lean without being bony or skinny. The petite frame belied the skill of a legendary fighter, Damian knew. He had watched and studied Drake's fights to one day best him in battle.

Although that day would not come now.

Tim's appearance aside, the strangeness of their meeting was highlighted by the fact that Tim was wearing little booty shorts, an oversized hoodie that clearly was not his, and purple nail polish.

"Heyo," Tim greeted Damian. "I'm Tim."

"Greetings, Drake," Damian replied cautiously. "I am Damian Al Ghul, now Al Ghul-Wayne."

"Coolio, I've always wanted a little brother," Tim said, poking Damian's still chubby cheek. "I always asked my parents for one, but they were too self-involved to think that perhaps Timmy wanted a companion to share in the lonliness that had become his metaphorical prison."

Bruce groaned, unhappy in a way only Tim's blunt truths could make him. Alfred flinched so hard that he dropped the vase he'd been dusting.

Farther away in Crime Alley, Dick sensed Tim's past neglect rearing its head and burst into tears all over a horrified Jason.

"But this time, the fates have heard Timmy, and they punctured the condom that Bruce wore that one, fateful night," Tim continued, beaming, "and now Timmy has a baby brother who is as cute as a pile of puppies, aw yiss."

Damian grinned at being likened to puppies. He loved puppies. He wondered if he could get a puppy. Grandfather had cited allergies and had never allowed him, but Damian thought that he was just trying to maintain his evil image, and puppies were the antithesis of evil.

"I look forward to achieving my full potential as your Robin, Father," Damian said.

Bruce's face locked down into a most displeased expression. "Blood or not, Damian, everyone in this family has an equal place in my heart. Currently, Tim is Robin, and I don't plan on changing that."

Damian's jaw dropped. "B-but what about me?"

"You can be my understudy," Tim suggested. "Proto-Robin. That, or you could apprentice yourself to Nightwing. Dick would love that. You could be my business apprentice by day, and Dick's sidekick by night."

Damian thought about the proposition. More Grayson did sound like a good proposition. Besides, it meant learning a new fighting style. "I accept this proposal," Damian said.

"Okay, seal it with a vow," Tim said, and extended his pinkie finger.

Damian stared at the extended digit. "What am I meant to do, exactly?"

"We wrap pinkies and so bond ourselves to this most solemn of vows," Tim said solemnly.

Damian extended his own pinkie and wrapped it around Tim's. "I hereby pledge myself to learning the ways of business with you, Drake, and to fight by Grayson's side as his partner to bring justice to evildoers - that are not my immediate family," he added quickly, thinking of his Grandfather. If he tried to stand against Grandfather, he would feel awful, he knew. All his ninja uncles and aunties would disapprove and send him chastizing letters.

"And, I, Tim, do hereby vow to teach you my ways of both business and battle and mould you into my successor so that I may run off to the Bahamas and do my own thing," Tim vowed in return. "So mote it be."

Bruce sighed at his sons plotting to do things behind his back. "Tim, why don't you show Damain the Batcave?" He suggested tiredly.

Tim and Damian made to trot off, but stopped when the door opened to reveal Dick coming home - sans Jason.

"Where is Jason," Bruce demanded.

Dick patted Bruce's cheek commiseratingly and sighed. "A discussion for a later time," he said. "But let's focus on the fact that Damian's home!"

Damian beamed and bounced forward. "Grayson, Drake has suggested that I fight alongside you whilst Drake trains me in the art of being a cuthroat businessman."

Dick smiled fondly. "I actually suggested it to Tim before," he said. "But Bruce had already scooped Timmy up to be Robin. I'm glad that he remembered."

Tim blushed prettily. "I'm a very considerate fellow," he preened.

"Nightwing is a Kryptonian mythical hero that Clark used to read to me about when I was a kid, as a bedtime story," Dick recalled fondly. "Nightwing used to protect Krypton along with his partner, Flamebird."

"Flamebird!" Damian's jaw dropped. "That is, as Todd says, mega cool beans. I love that name!"

"Aw man, major suck, I'm stuck as small freaking Robin while Damian gets the cool name," Tim pouted.

Bruce, however, was looking at the whole thing from a different angle. "Clark read you bedtime stories? How did he get in the house?"

"I gave him a key," Dick said.

"Clark has a key to my house!?"

"Who is Clark?" Damian asked.

"Superman."

Damian's tiny jaw dropped once more. "You are friends with Superman?" He quickly recovered. "Whatever. Surely, he is not as impressive as Batman."

"He gives more hugs," Tim said. "And smiles more. He lives on a farm."

"A farm! With animals?"

"Oh yeah, cows, sheep, horses, chickens, you name it, he has it."

"How brilliant! Father, do you keep animals?"

"I have one dog."

"A dog!"

Bruce whistled. "Ace, c'mere." At Bruce's call, an enormous Alsatian trotted forward, and seeing Damian began to sniff at him. Finding the new human acceptable, it inclined its head forward in a request for pats, which Damian immediately obliged.

"He is glorious," Damian said.

"Ace is a girl," Dick smiled. "Bruce named her before checking."

"Then she is glorious!"

They quietly watched Damian snuggle the big dog for a good few minutes before Alfred oozed in, bearing a two tier, completely frosted chocolate cake. "In honour of Master Damian joining the family at long last, and for Master Jason returning- where, precisely, is he?"

Here, Dick's face resembled some attractive but sad mush. "Jaybird said that he wanted space," Dick's lips wibbled. "That he was going ot continue to 'be his own man' and then he said that Bruce could do something that is painful if you haven't stretched or prepared enough."

"Oh dear," Alfred said.

"But he sends you his love, Alfie," Dick said earnestly, "and he promises not to kill Timmy! That's a huge step!"

Alfred looked slightly heartened. "Would Master Jason consider meeting in a public area? On his terms?"

"I'll ask," Dick said. "I'm sure he won't say no to meeting you again, Alfie. And Timmy too, he seemed interested in seeing Timmy without his blinders of rage and mistrust."

"Ah, it does this old heart good to have all his grandchildren safe and happy," Alfred sighed. "But come, Master Damian, this cake will not eat itself. Master Tim, would you please call Miss Stephanie? Poor lass could use some food that does not come with the label 'Instant'."

"Stephanie? Who is that?" Damian asked.

"Steph is Spoiler, the purple vigilante. She's our sister Cass' girlfriend."

Damian's eyes bugged out of his skull. A sister! "Where is this sister?"

"Hong Kong," Tim said, fishing out his phone, and pulling up one of a thousand pictures of Cass that Bruce insisted on taking. Damian looked at the picture and gasped.

"She is akin to a princess!"

"She's going to be pleased to hear that," Tim smiled. "She, by the way, operates under the name Orphan."

Damian's jaw dropped. "No!"

"Yes!"

"She is legendary!"

"I know!"

Damian looked delighted at all the new siblings he was acquiring. He hoped that this Stephanie person was just as good as the rest.

***

Damian was disappointed.

The first thing Stephanie Brown had done upon meeting him was to vigorously rub his head with her knuckles, call him a spud, and poke his cheeks. She had barely rescued her fingers from being bitten off, and Damian spent the rest of the meal hiding in Grayson's lap.

"Father, tell me that I will not have to patrol with that...creature!" Damian had begged afterwards.

"I promise," Bruce had replied solemnly.

Damian calmed down and then looked out of the window. "Night has fallen. Shall we patrol, father?"

Bruce stared. "Er...no."

Damian's heartbreak was evident on his face. "B-but why?"

Bruce willed his panicking heart to still. "Because...you don't have an outfit."

"You can join Alfie on the comms tonight," Dick suggested, "so you can get a feel for how we operate. And tomorrow, we can design your outfit."

Damian bounced minutely. "A sound plan," he said. "Let us move into Father's most sacred of sanctums!"

Damian fell completely in love with the cave on first glance. "How dark! Such ambiance! This is most befitting of a bat! Oh, but who is that?"

There was a dark figure at the giant computer, swallowed by shadows. "Come closer, little Bat," the voice called.

Damian looked up at Bruce and Dick, who nodded encouragingly. "Go on, Dami. It's time to meet The Oracle."

Damian could not deny his apprehension as he stepped forward. Slowly, the shadows around the figure receded to reveal a most intimidating woman with a stern gaze and fiery red hair. She was sitting in a wheelchair as though it was her throne, and beckoned for him to come closer.

"Damian Wayne," she said. "This is your surface name. Here, below the rgound and in the cover of night, you are born anew. What is to be your new name?"

Damian looked back at his family, his new brothers giving him thumbs ups and Bruce rolling his eyes at the unnecessary dramatics. Damian looked back at the commanding woman before him and met her eyes.

"My name," he said, "is Flamebird."


	3. Chapter 3

The Oracle, as it turned out, was Barbara Gordon, the original Batgirl, and Damian was comletely enamoured by her. Bruce had mourned the loss of another son to the Red Headed Menace, and gone to don his suit.

Barbara had put the time to good use by cementing her place in Damian's heart as 'a most intimidating and powerful woman, Father, is she not the most amazing person?'. "Dick and I used to date," she informed him, "before we broke up one time too many. He's still the only man who is allowed to give me back rubs."

Dick grinned. "We're best friends," he said, "and now, she rules the world through the power of technology."

"I thought Drake wanted to do that."

"No, Tim wants to fix the world through technology. I want to keep it running."

"How wise," Damian said, his eyes like orbs.

Meanwhile, Tim had used the distraction to run a paternity test on the few strands of Damian's hair he had pilfered, and confronted Bruce in the changing room with the results. "Of the two men in this room, one of us is the daddy," Tim said.

"You are not a man yet," Bruce grouched, and scanned the results. No doubt about it, Bruce was now a daddy five times over. Good lord. "Well, I suppose there is no escaping it now. Time to open my heart to yet another child."

"Cool beans, I got a new Spiky Brother. Now to sway Murder Brother into loving me and giving me wholesome hugs and feeding me, and Timmy will be golden."

"Why do you refer to yourself in the third person?" Bruce asked, slightly nonplussed. "No, wait, don't tell me. Get suited up."

"Can I bring my new Bazooser?"

"What is a bazooser."

"Timmy has invented a new hybrid weapon for maximum villan evisceration! Yes! It is a mix of a bazooka and a laser, and gives Timmy's lasers the range and destructive power of a bazooka! Meet my new baby, Bruce," Tim said, yanking the Bazooser out and displaying it, "isn't he the shiniest boy? Good Bazooser, good boy!"

"Weapons are not animate, Tim."

"They will remember that you said that during the Robot Apocalypse."

"As though you won't be hunted as well."

"No! The robots will look to Timmy as a kindly mother figure, who will oil them and take care of them and provide them with upgrades!"

"You'll join the robots?"

"I don't like people, Bruce."

Father and son stared at each other, Bruce through concerned eyes, and Tim swallowing up his gaze through his blank, void-like eyeholes.

"Tim."

"Bruce."

"Have you built a sentient robot."

"..."

"TIM!"

"His name is Herbie and I love him like my own son!"

"Tim, deactivate the robot right now."

"How could you be so callous to your only grandchild!"

Damian poked his head through and onterrupted their argument. "Father, there is a small mechanism that has been rolling around the cave and bumping into me," he said, prompting a small, spherical robot to roll in, and come to a skidding stop beside Tim. A small head popped out, and it angled it so that Tim could pat it. Then, horrifically, it began to purr.

"Damian, this is Herbie the sentient robot, first of his kind, and I love him like a son. Herbie, were you playing with Damian?"

"Weeeeee," Herbie replied.

"Good boy! Such an extrovert!"

"Tim!"

  
"Herbie, go say hi to grandpa," Tim coaxed him. The robot rolled towards Bruce, only to squeal and roll away when Bruce glowered at it, rolling back into the shadows.

"Poor Herbie," Tim pouted. "All he wants to do is eat the grass and receive head pats, and he is denied these simple pleasures."

"Wait, that thing is a lawnmower?"

"Yeah, I built him out of the spare parts of the one that was languishing in the shed."

"How ingenious, Drake," Damian said admiringly, "I would like to learn to create mechanical life also."

"Aw yiss, Timmy has gained a busniess and tech protege, double win."

Damian then turned to look fully at Bruce, and his eyes doubled in size to see Bruce as The Batman, the hero from the myth that had been built up for him. Bruce sensed the eyes upon him, and in an uncommon show of emotional intelligence, reached out and cupped Damian's round, squishy face in his hand.

"One day, when I have grown," Damian said, "I, too, will be The Batman!"

"Er, if that's what you want," Bruce said, side-eyeing Tim, who was already off in dreamland, humming under his breath and weaving visions of a balmy island mansion with Kon-El, hammocks, and aesthetic, sandy, beaches.

Oh, and money. Can't forget the oodles of money. Timmy loved him some cash.

Ok, so no competition for the cowl from that quarter, Bruce thought. Dick...was also very loud in denying Bruce's sweaty old cowl and cape, preferring to have his bum exaggeratted by the sleek, clinging nature of his outfit.

Cassandra, he knew, would heed Barbara's advice. She was the heir to Batgirl, Barbara had been training her for a while now. And Bruce did not want to cross Barbara, he valued his life and sanity.

That left Jason, and really, who knew what he wanted?

Oooh, that boy had better not have done any murdering tonight...

"Tim!"

"Hmmm?" Tim hummed dreamily.

"We're going!"

"Ok," Tim sang.

"Farewell - as Todd says - fam," Damian said. "I shall watch your operations tonight. Grayson?"

"Yeah, buddy?"

"When shall we design my outfit tomorrow?"

"We can do it after breakfast," Dick promised. "In fact, I already laid out the materials, all we have to do is measure you."

Damian's face set itself in an evil grin that stretched his entire face out horizontally like a particularly cute lizard. "Excellent. Fight well, then, and shed the blood of evildoers with wanon abandon!"

Bruce sighed and dragged Tim away, Dick hovering a second more to administer a goodbye kissy to Damian. "Grayson," Damian called.

"Yes?" Dick asked, turning back.

"If you see Todd this night, give him a message from me."

Dick's eyes shone with brotherly love. "Sure!"

"Tell him, that unless he holds true to his end of the deal, that he will pay."

***

_Later, in Gotham City..._

"Dami said to tell you that you will play!"

Jason raised an eyebrow, obscured by his mask, at his desperate older brother. "Dick, stop embellishing. Did Damian perchance say, I will pay?"

Dick whined sadly. "I just want you to have a wholesome relationship," he pouted. "He said to uphold your deal."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Jason snorted. "Okay, I'm going to go now," he said, trying to wriggle out of the small nook in the wall that he and Dick had stuffed themselves into to avoid Bruce's prying eyes. It had the benefit of avoiding all security cameras and being dark, but on the downside, put him into very close proximity with a warm Dick.

"I'll get out first," Dick said, and bent himself in impossible ways, worming effortlessly out of the small nook he had shared with Jason. "Now you, Little Wing!"

"Oh my god," Jason said, and jumped out. "Welp, bye, got a criminal enterprise to run."

"Oh be careful, Jay," Dick said. "And uphold your deal to Dami!"

Jason sighed. "It's no big deal, Dickface, I just gotta check in with the brat every week and facilitate a call with his mom and grandpa."

"How familial!" Dick squealed.

Eck. Jason ran off, eager to avoid Dick. Unhelpfully, he ran straight into his Replacement, the odious Tim Drake, who was worming around the walls, spying on his henchmen.

"Get lost, brat," Jason hissed. "This is my turf!"

Tim narrowed his eyes at Jason. "You're manufacturing drugs."

"And running the other crime familes out of town," Jason said. "I already got rid of the Batalis and the Marconis, you're welcome."

"Smart," Tim acknowledged. "Still, crack is whack."

"Its not crack," Jason said. "It's less potent. Its a herbal formulation that I picked up from the alchemy teacher back at the League. Less toxic."

"I see," Tim said. "I would like some."

"No."

"To analyze."

"No."

"Aww..."

"I gave some to Dick for analysis, I'm not going to give drugs to a kid," Jason seethed. "Go away."

"But it's boring out there tonight," Tim complained.

"Not my problem."

"Wanna duel?"

"...are you purposely antagonizing me?"

"No. I'm borrreeed," Tim whined. Then, "Now I'm hungry. Got milk?"

"Milk?"

"Timmy has realized that he is genetically predisposed to below average height, and is stocking up on that good calcium to aid bone mineralization and encourage a growth spurt."

"Take a supplement."

"I do, Bruce grinds up the pills and puts them into my food."

Just then, Tim's pager began to buzz. "Oh, Joker broke out of Arkham."

"Surprise, surprise."

Tim eyed Jason beadily. "Wanna gang up on him? I'll hold him down and you can whale on him with your unfiltered rage and bigger fists."

Jason considered the offer. "Yeah, why not?"

"Aw yiss, Timmy can test his new laxative taser, tonight's a good night."

Little creep, Jason thought, following the little lizard. Soon, they had found the Joker. "Surprise, bitch," Jason grinned, his voice shocking the Joker into a halt.

"I'm supposed to be surprised that the little Robin-bobbin came back?" He cooed horrifically. "Or that you've come to face me again?"

Jason giggled incredulously as he caught sight of Tim hidden away, gleefully aiming his laxative taser at the Joker. "No," he smiled, as Tim shot. The Joker fell. "Surprise, bitch, I brought along a friend."

"Aww, Robin's heart is warmed that his pseudo-big brother who rose form the dead considers him a friend," Tim said, and watched Joker thrash around in agony on the floor. "Would you like to do the honours, Red Hood?"  
Feeling magnanimous, Jason shook his head. "Oh no, your go first, I insist."

"Yeet," Tim beamed, and began the ritualistic thrashing of the Joker.

Jason admired Tim's form. So much sadism in such a little body. No wonder R'as wanted him as an heir. The idea of Damian as the Bat, and Tim as R'as little protege was an unnerving one, he had to admit.

After Jason had had his turn breaking several of Joker's bones, the terrible twosome hauled Joker's mutilated body to the rooftop of the GCPD, where Gordon looked at them, understood the situation, and sighed for ten minutes.

"I'm supposed to arrest you," Gordon said to Jason.

"But I'm a good boy," Jason said, "pinky promise."

Gordon snorted in disbelief, his heart warming at the voice from his past. "Welcome home, lad."

"Aw, thanks, Gordon. If you knew my secret identity, I'd totally buy you a drink."

Gordon did actually know their secret identities, but he preferred to maintain his sanity, and therefore lived in strategic denial. "Mighty kind of you. Red Hood, you can go. Robin, you stay."

"Why?" Tim asked, alarmed.

"Does Batman know that you have that taser?"

Tim's face crumpled. "Oh, please don't tell him, I'll be in so much trouble! B said that last time was the last straw!"

Gordon sighed at the memory of Robin's previous Incontinence Serum Darts and their effects on Bane. "No can do, young man. Just you wait till your father gets wind of this."

"Nooooo, Robin is doomed," Tim whined sadly, "and still hungry."

"Welp, see yuh," Jason said. "I'll do a scarper before Big Bat can get all justice-y on my ass."

Jason left just in time to see catch the beginning of Bruce berating Tim, how dare he make another laxative weapon, good god Robin think of the sanitation workers, you're grounded for a week, and what do you mean Red Hood was there, ooooh you are in so much trouble young man.

Jason called it a night and went back to his apartment for a well deerved nap. He checked his phone and saw a message from Dick, who had apparently managed to get his number, probably from Damian.

_DICK: gudnite little wing sweet sugarplum dreeaaams <3 <3 <3_

Ew.

There was, curiously, also a message from Damian.

_DAMIAN: We shall meet tomorrow, Todd. Be prepared to uphold your end of the deal._

Jason rolled his eyes and threw himself into his mattress, thinking sourly that he really needed to invest in a bed frame. He needed adequate rest to deal with the hellions that were, apparently, his family.


	4. Chapter 4

Why everyone thought that his house was a communal bonding spot, Jason could not fathom. He had not invited any of the current interlopers in, and yet here they were, sitting in height order - Dick, then Tim, and then Damian.

Alfred was also there, but he had come in through the front door and Jason genuinely wanted him there. Alfred was also there to safeguard his newest grandson from the "odious influence" of his other grandfather, the notorious R'as Al Ghul.

That being said, Dick brought cupcakes and Tim brought Starbucks, so that was good. Alfred brought vegetables and Damian brought criticism and featherduster, the latter being completely unwarranted. Jason was a busy boy, he'd get to cleaning later.

Except, no, he had to do it now, because cleaning was a family thing now.

And when had Dick become family again? Not to mention Tim and Damian?

Aw, heck, Jason was a softie.

Jason plopped down on his now clean sofa, and pulled out his phone. "Okay brat, c'mere, time to call your mom." Damian bounced over, a small but lethal bundle of joy.

The phone rang three times before Talia's face came over the screen, and her severe expression slackened as soon as she saw Damian. "Damian, my gem."

"Mother! How do you fare?"

"I would have you with me, my little raisin," she said quietly, "but I must let you go for your own good."

"I miss you too, mama," Damian said quietly. "How is everyone else? How are the horses faring? Do they pine for me?"

Talia looked uncomfortable. "They do pine, my dear. Your horse, Amina, has birthed her colt."

"How brilliant!" Damian gasped.

"Damian," she said hesitantly, "would my most bitter beloved take it well if I sent the colt for you to rear?"

"I am not sure, Mother," Damian said. "Let me ask Grayson."

Dick nodded. "Of course, Dami! It'll be a lovely reminder of home and a good exercise in responsibility!"

Talia frowned. "Richard is there?"

"Indeed. As are Drake and Todd and Pennyworth."

Talia's frown deepened. "And...they live?"

Damian bounced. "Mother, there has been a greivous misunderstanding," he said, with his eyes blown wide. "Drake is not an usurper! He has a plan to train me as his protege in business and his wily technological ways so that within ten years, he can go and live on a farm with his secret boyfriend and be a farmer's wife by day and a vigilante by night!"

Talia rolled her eyes. "What of your battle training? Does your father train you well?"

"Father trains me not at all," Damian said innocently. "Grayson is my guardian and mentor. I have come up with a hero name for myself - I am Flamebird! Would you like to see my costume, Mother?"

Talia gave a pained smile. "Of course, habibi." As soon as Damian dashed off, she thunked her head against the table. "Jason!"

"Ye-es?" Jason said hesitantly.

"Why have you not enacted my plans!"

"Because this is better," Jason said. "Trust me, Talia, you don't want Damian to train under Bruce, the man has the emotional range of rodent roadkill. Loath as I am to say it, if I had kids, I'd happily have Dick train them. He's just as good as Bruce, and he has the capability to actually be invested in a child's all-round growth."

"Jaybird, you're so sweet!" Dick wept saccharine tears.

"Damian's a sweet kid, Talia, despite everything," Jason said. "And despite what you think, that's not a bad thing. He has the capability to be better than all of us."  
"You're so emotionally mature, Jaybird!"

"Oh my god, shut up," Jason said, turning to address Dick offscreen.

Talia boiled in her own juices. Nothing was going according to plan. Just then, Damian bounced in, fully dressed in his new black armour, red and orange vest, black eyemask, and cape with a hood. His gauntlets were a subdued red, the colour of blood.

"Mother, is my outfit not glorious?"

Talia looked as though she would choke on her own hatred. "It is very regal, my love," she managed. "Very understated. I did not think it possible of Richard."

"Dick is actually a bit colourblind, we had to add correctiive lenses to his eyemask," Tim said. "We only found out a few years ago because he said that he thought that he didn't understand why Santa's suit was poo-brown in colour."

"So his costume..."

"Yeah, Dick's been colorblind for a long time," Tim sighed. "I helped pick the colours for Damian's suit."

There was a sudden gruff tirade form offscreen on Talia's side, and suddenly, she was pushed out of the screen, which was taken over by R'as Al Ghul's face. "Beloved Grandchild!"

"Honored Grandfather! How are you faring? Do you remember to do your stretches before you duel?" Damian asked, concerned.

R'as chuckled. "I do, my little pet. Tell me, how fares your quest to become The Bat?"

Damian rattled off the whole tale again, showing off his costume, and being generally, evilly, adorable. "...and Grayson is to be my main guardian and mentor, he is very nice, Grandfather."

"Oh?" R'as said, not having had many interactions with the first Robin. "Might I meet him?"

Dick moved into the frame and smiled politely, if a little murderously. "Hello, sir," he said, with forced politeness.

R'as looked appraisingly at Dick, who was looking extra pretty that day. "Oh, you'll do," he murmured quietly, even as Talia hissed something in their mother tongue, which Jason translated for Alfred was, 'stop being so thristy in front of your grandson, father, oh my god'.

"Richard," R'as purred, "I hope that you will instruct my most precious granndchild well?"

"Of course," Dick bit out, full of pasive aggressiveness.

"Aha! Then I will give you a syllabus of the forms that Damian must learn!" Here R'as went into a spiel of different martial arts and techniques that Dick nodded politely along to, just to keep Damian happy.

"...and do instruct him in your aerial duels, they are ever so lovely to watch. And speaking of lovely, is that young Tmiothy I see?"  
Tim squeaked and pressed himself into the sofa crease. "Ah, Timothy, have you yet reconsidered my offer to become my protege, young one? I have a most well furnished laboratory, and a lovely benefits package-"

"My grandson," Alfred interuppted loudly, pushing his way into the frame, "shall not be lured to your side, sir."

"Indeed?" R'as asked slyly.

"Indeed," Alfred insisted gravely.

"Indeed!" R'as noted with surprise at the old butler's firmness.

"Indeed," Alfred said with finality.

"What," Jason whispered, "is going on?"

"A most important discussion," Damian translated, studying their facial expressions, "do silence your gob, Todd. I am trying to observe this great battle of wills."

"I'll silence your gob," Jason muttered, "C'mere!"

"No!" Damian cried, and ran off, only to be caught by Jason and subjected to a noogie most torturous.

Meanwhile, Talia was experiencing a severe bout of emotions. "Father, I am not sure about this arrangement," she fretted. "I want my son to come back to me."

"Really? You want to battle Bruce for that?" Tim butted in. "He's really pissed about missing out on the first decade of Damian's life. Besides, Damian could do worse for a mentor than Dick and I."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, he might have stayed with Jason." Tim panned the camera to show Jason now sitting on Damian's back, pinning the spitting demonling in place.

Talia sighed, and from there, went on to finalize the shipment of Damian's colt to Gotham, threaten Dick, only to be threated by him in turn, and threaten Tim, who stared emotionlessly at her for a whole minute and then vowed to disconnect her wi-fi.

The call ended, and Jason let Damian up, who scampered over to Dick. "Grayson!"

"Yes?"

"Teach me how to fell Todd!"

Dick grinned. "You see how tall Jason is?"

"Yes..."

"The trick is to maneuver him into a narrow stance, and then attack his legs and shift his centre of gravity, making him fall over!"

"Aha!" Damian cried, even as Jason shrieked. "Prepare to perish, Todd!"

"Heck," Jason spat, and resumed fighting, while Dick watched like a proud hen.

Tim sighed as the abttle raged behind them. "All's well that ends well, as they say. Timmy gets to keep his spiky baby brother, Dick earns the respect of a horde of assassins, and Alfie faces off with his most hated nemesis and comes out on top."

"I didn't know that you hated R'as over everyone else, Alfie," Dick noted.

Alfred sniffed regally. "The cad deigned to keep young Master Damian away from his father, away from his loving family. He denied Master Bruce, youselves, and myself the chance to raise Master Damian. To see him grow up loved and cherished. I despise that man with every fibre of my being."

Damian, who had heard the diatribe, cruelly abandoned Jason after kicking him in his delicate areas and waddled over. "I did not realize that you felt so strongly about not seeing me, Pennyworth," Damian said innocently.

Alfred's expression crumpled. "Oh my boy," he said sadly, "I would have given the world to have the chance to help raise you, as I raised your father and your brothers before you."

"Oh," Damian said, unsure of what to make of such emotion. "I'm sorry, Pennyworth."

It was too much for poor Dick, who burst into tears, fat, pearlescent droplets of water cascading from his eyes. Tim, who was inadvertently caught in the impromptu shower, was soaked.

Seeking to turn a bad situation better, Tim hummed as the tears hit him. "Ah, moisturizing," he said. Dick giggled wetly and seemed to stop crying in earnest, enough to pull Damian onto his lap.

"Damian, you shouldn't feel bad about the circumstances that separated you from us," Dick said. "I'm just glad to know you now, and to have a chance to raise you and love you."

Damian grinned like the sef-satisfied toad that he was. Someone loved him! Someone looked forward to being with him!

"And you will not send me away?" Damian asked.

Dick gasped. "Never! Whoever wanted to take you away would have to kill me and Bruce first!"

"But I don't want you or father to die," Damian said, his eyes bugging out.

"No! Death is for losers!" Tim declared. "Anyone who tried to take you away will meet the wrath of Timmy's tiny robot army of nanobots which will burrow under their skin and eat them from the inside!"

Damian applauded. "How clever and vicious!"

"Timmy," Dick said sternly, "does Bruce know about your killer nanobot army?"

"..."

"Timmy..."

"No! Bruce would force Timmy to deactivate his creations, who are less robots and more akin to sons!" Here, Tim withdrew a nanobot from his pocket and gave Dick a magnifying glass. Dick leaned in to view the nanobot, which was smiling up at him and Tim, jumping around happily on the tip of Tim's finger. Dick thought that it looked a bit like Nyan Cat.

"He is cute," Dick admitted.

"Aha! Timmy's robots have gained their uncle's love! As thanks, they will spare you and your loved ones during the robot apocalypse."

"Okay," Dick beamed, glad that his bacteria-like need to spread love had saved the day.

"Freaks," Jason muttered from where he was hiding behind the kitchen counter. Damian perked up at his voice, and zipped over, demanding that Jason train with him and teach him to make potions.

"No," Jason said, shaking the clingy toad child off of his arm. "Alchemy is too advanced for you."

"But I am an eager student!"

"Yeah, no, I'm not teaching a ten year old to make contact poisons."

"Don't be dim, Todd, I know how to make contact poisons. I want to learn to make those slow acting poisons that you like so much."

"Jaybird, have you been poisoning people?" Dick asked sternly.

"Only evil people," Jason said.

"How fun!" Tim crowed. "Timmy has just had a genius idea to infuse his nanobots with slow acting toxic laxatives to dispatch his enemies! Jason, will you teach Timmy?"

"Stop talking about yourself in the third person," Jason shuddered.

"It is a technique to distinguish Terrible Timmy, Slayer Of Evil and Tantalizing Timmy, Soulmate of Superboy, who only wants to live on a farm and wear vintage dresses and make all manner of pies and casseroles."

"Is...is that split personality?" Jason asked, concerned.

"Don't be ridiculous, Timmy is fully aware and in control of both sides of his personality and indulges both in appropriate amounts."

"...who am I talking to now?"

"Timmy is one cohesive individual," Tim explained. "Timmy unleashes whichever side of his genius mind depending on circumstance."

"So why do you speak in the third person!"

"Because of aesthetic!"

"Oh my god. If I give you food, will you shut up?"

"Timmy agrees."

Jason went to the fridge and pulled out a plate of lasagna. "Here," he said, pushing it towards Tim, "eat it and stop being creepy."

"Om nom nom," Tim enunciated between bites.

Dick's eyes gleamed. "Jason, did you make that lasagna?"

Jason drew back, unsure of where this was going. "Yeah..."

Dick squealed. "You made good food to make it up to Dami in time for his visit! Oh Jaybird, you do care!"

Jason groaned at being caught out for his mushiness, and Damian beamed. "The multi-layered dish is for me?"

"Yeah," Jason sighed heavily. "I figured that I neglected you for a while, and I kinda wanted to make it up to you," he mumbled. "Stop cooing, Dick!"

Dick continued to sound like a kettle on the boil.

Damian poked at the dish and drew out a slice and marvelled at the cheese pull. "The curdled dairy has congealed!"

"Kid, its cheese," Jason said, sounding pained.

"It is glorious," Damian said through a mouthful. "I shall learn how to make it. Pennyworth, do you know how to prepare the cheese?"

Alfred glowed with a radiance such that had never been seen before. "Master Damian," he said, "do I know how to make cheese? Have a seat, my lad, and let me tell you-"

Damian listened to Alfred talk about milk, and rennet, and curd with rapt attention, his big eyes popping out of his little head. In the meantime, Tim was using the cute distraction to comb through Jason's fridge, strategically demolishing everything in his path.

"Hey!" Jason cried, "Get out of my fridge, Replacement!"

"But I'm hungwy," Tim said sadly, "and all you have are some squishy vegetables. Uber upsetting, it seems that Timmy will go hungry this day."

"Or," Jason said, "you can actually go down to Starbucks and get more food, using that huge salary of yours."

"No Starbucks on my watch," Alfred said. "We shall have a home cooked meal! Today, we shall make ratatouille!"

Damian followed Alfred around the kitchen, absorbing knowledge like a sponge. Alfred was delighted, having found the one Wayne male who was not a diaster in the kitchen, as Bruce and the late Thomas were famous for.

They went to sit down to eat, whereupon Jason was forced to shamefacedly announce that he didn't have enough chairs. He pointed to the loveseat that seated two, and one ratty wicker chair. "Sorry fam," Jason said, "looks like the floor it is."

At that moment, a large cockroach flew out from beneath the wooden slats, nixing that idea.

Dick, master of adaptation, came up with a plan. "Its ok! Dami, you can sit on my lap!" Damian scrambled onto Dick happily, looking like a lizard that had just eaten a juicy, satisfying fly. "And Timmy can sit on Jason!"

"What no-"

And that was how Jason found his lap housing the Replacement brother that he had vowed to kill not 72 hours prior, as the twinky brat in question sucked cooked vegetables from his plate like his life depended on it.

"Oh my god, this is my life," Jason realized. "My family is living in my pockets, I've killed nobody that I vowed to kill, I've caused Bruce no strife, and there's a twink sitting on my lap. I'm a failure!"

"Don't flatter yourself," Tim snorted. "I would rather be sitting on Kon's far more swole lap. Soft, yet filled with power and the promise of something more."

"How do you manage to have a boyfriend without Bruce finding out?" Jason asked. "Bruce's favourite hobby is spying on his kids."

"Oh, I pretend that me and Kon are just friends," Tim said. "We follow the 'two bros chilling in a hot tub, five feet apart' rule when he can see us. But it just adds to the anticipation," Tim said with a barely repressed shudder of longing.

"All I wanted was to avenge myself," Jason said sadly, "and bring peace to my city. Now, I amsurrounded by family and am forced to have Sunday lunches with them. This is not how I had planned my life out."  
"But isn't it better, Little Wing?" Dick asked. "You have all the love in the world, now! You brought Dami home, and you've realized that killing Timmy is wrong!"

"I've realized that killing Timmy is impractical, because he has pledged to supply me with my own nanobot army," Jason corrected, "and as payment, I must feed him and provide my house as a meeting spot for him and his dumbass boyfriend."

"Good cooperation, Drake," Damian approved. "I see that you manipulated the situation to get the best possible outcome for both parties. How astute."

"Stick with me, young padawan, and soon, you too will learn to manipulate Jason," Tim grinned, and was pinched hard for his efforts. "Owie, Jason!" Tim squealed, massaging his thigh that was rapidly growing pinker from the pinched spot.

"Stop manipulating things, then," Jason said, unrepentant.

"Can't stop, won't stop."

Alfred watched his grandsons integrating and subtly wiped a tear from his eye. He had only ever dreamt that this day would come.

Now if only Master Bruce could see this.

***

Bruce, who had attached a camera to Alfred's cufflink and was seeing what his sons were up to, was quietly seething.

Not because Jason was back and being a murderer.

Not because Damian was in contact with Talia.

Not because Dick was forcefully pouring love down everyone's throats and making them be brothers.

But because Tim had a boyfriend.

And not just any old boyfriend that he could eviscerate, but Superboy, clone of Clark, who would possibly cry if Bruce eviscerated his 'brother'. Bruce could feel his rage induced hemorroids making themselves known.

He trundled down into the garage to his car, intent on bringing Tim home and locking him in the Purity Chamber, which was originally built for a teenaged Dick, but had seldom been used, because Bruce actually approved of Barbara.

Before he found out that she had deflowered his son. Then he hated everyone.

He hated, in order:

\- Barbara (but not really, she was his little girl too, even if she didn't admit it)  
\- Midnighter and Apollo  
\- Slade Wilson (why won't he just die!)  
\- That guy from the froyo shop that always gave Dick extra sprinkles (Chad or Brad or something)  
\- K'oriandr (again, not really, she was super nice, but she scared him, she was seven feet tall wearing flats)

What is in common in this plethora of people, you ask? Well, the conclusion to be drawn is, clearly: Dick is a bottom.

Bruce stopped midway in his journey, having worked off some of his hate. He looked back at the image projected on the screen, of his boys being sweet and getting along.

He could punish Tim later, Bruce decided, and settled in to watch his sons like some creep.


	5. Chapter 5

The lads had successfully talked Jason into visiting the manor, ostensibly to pick up his old things to furnish his excuse of an apartment, but really, it was to make Bruce see what he was missing out on.

Bruce, however, had an agenda.

The boys returned to see the manor plunged into darkness, the only light coming from the faintly crackling fire in the fireplace. The light silhoutted Bruce, sitting like a king in his armchair. "Welcome home, boys," he said slowly.

Damian ran over and crawled into Bruce's lap happily. "What ho, father! We have brought Todd with us to pick up his old things."

Bruce smiled indulgently at Damian. Poor fool, he didn't know what was coming. "Have a seat, boys," he said tightly. "You too, Jason."

Jason tensed. "You can't boss me around, old man, I'm well beyond your authority, and am an adult, you can't give me shit-"

"That's true," Bruce hummed, directing them into chairs. He waited until they had sat down before speaking again. "I can't impress my parental authority over you, Jason. However, you are not the intended recipient of this chewing out."

Jason perked up. "I'm not?"

"Oh no," Bruce laughed lightly. "No, no, no. The true criminal in this room knows who he is. Isn't that right...TIMOTHY!"

Tim gasped. Dick gasped. Alfred gasped. Damian gasped. Jason did not gasp, because he was not going to play into the pantomime crowd.

"B-Bruce!" Tim squeaked. "Whatever do you mean?"

"Is it not true," Bruce thundered, "that you have been having relations with Kon-El?"

"W-what? No," Tim quaked, "Bruce you are simply raving!" Tim shrilled. "I shall not be slandered in such a manner-"

"Give it up, Tim," Bruce hissed, "it's over."

"I won't validate your madness!" Tim cried.

Bruce pulled out his phone, and held it up. On the screen was the chat transcript between Bruce and Clark.

\--02:02pm-- BRUCE: Clark you cornhusking ninny, your brother has been defiling my Tim.

\--02:03pm-- CLARK: What? :O

\--02:03pm-- BRUCE: I have proof. Ask your demon brother! I demand that he confess to this deed of his.

\--02:18pm-- CLARK: omg Bruce its true, Kon confessed everything :( What do we do, I haven't given Kon The Talk yet!

\--02:19pm-- BRUCE: Your brother did not even have the courtesy to approach me for Tim's hand.

\--02:19pm-- CLARK: Would you have consented if he had?

\--02:19pm-- BRUCE: No.

\--02:19pm-- CLARK: lol

\--02:19pm-- CLARK: I don't want to break them up tho, they're cute. I saw their pics on Kon's phone. I'm going to have a talk with Kon tho.

Tim screamed as Bruce grinned viciously. "So Tim. Let's talk."

"I have a right to an attorney!"

"Fine, choose."

"I choose Dick!"

"Dick, your closing statement."

"But he didn't even get an opening one!"

"Learn to recognize a farce when you see it, Tim."

"Dearly beloved, if it please the court," Dick said, standing up, "I believe that nothing should stand in the way of Timmy's quest to find love, and that Bruce should let Timmy pursue his dreams!"

"Hear hear!" Tim squeaked.

"Pathetic," Bruce said easily. "Tim, you're grounded. You are hereby sentenced to the Purity Chamber. Hand over your phone."

"Nooo," Tim whined. "What will I do when every fibre of my being cries out for my soulmate?"

"You can see him on Monday," Dick said placatingly. "Bruce isn't breaking you up."

"Well-"

"AREN'T YOU, BRUCE."  
"Well, no," Bruce said, cowed by the sudden red gleam in Dick's eyes. Gosh, but he needed to keep an eye on that, he thought, as Dick immediately turned back into a marshmallow. "I'm not breaking them up, I'm not evil."

Tim sniffled. "Very well, then. Timmy accepts this egregious miscarriage of justice in the name of seeing his beloved Kon again on Monday."

"To the purity chamber," Bruce said delightedly, watching Tim stomp away and felt accomplished.

After Tim left, there was a strained silence that took over. Without the buffer of Tim's obvious guilt, Bruce was forced to confront the elephant in the room that was his second child. Luckily, Alfred broke the tension in his usual impeccable manner. "Tea," he announced, and glared at them until everyone was sipping tea in a genteel manner befitting Edwardian queens.

"This tea is excellent, Pennyworth," Damian said, attempting small talk to diffuse the tension. "Todd you boor!"

"What!"

"One does not dip the biscuit into the beverage, good lord. It is to be eaten separately."

"But I like the mushy feeling."

"Egads."

Bruce watched his sons interact, and studiously ignored the holes that Dick's eyes were boring into the side of his head in an effort to get him to see how wonderful family time could be, don't mess this up for me Bruce.

Bruce assiduously ignored Dick's rabid need to spread love, and drank his tea, allowing himself to imagine that everything was fine, his kids were fine, and everyone loved each other. It was a nice dream.

Such a nice dream that he dozed off, his chins collapsing to create a very dadly double chin. Dick cooed at the sight and covered Bruce with a blanket from the sofa. Jason stared at Bruce as his rumbling snores started up, a sign that he was well and truly asleep. Bruce was really that at ease with him that he would doze off? That was unprecedented.

Even more unprecedented was that Damian was yawning, the gentle snores emnating from Bruce putting him to sleep as well. Dick immediately sprung into action, putting a woozy Damian on Bruce's lap, and then snapping several pictures of them looking like a lion and his cub, fast asleep.

Jason watched the pair for a minute, and deciding that he was bored, plucked out a book from the shelf to read with his tea. He did not realize when his own eyes closed, but Jason somehow registered a warm, fluffy blanket being tucked around him, and the telltale feeling of Dick's kissy lips pecking his forehead. Unable to do more than frown at the kissy intrusion due to the warm haze of sleepiness enveloping him, Jason made a note to pinch Dick later (he squealed like a little piggy) and fell asleep.

***

Bruce woke from his mini-nap and made a note of Damian snoozing on top of him, spread over him like a tiny, spiny, starfish. Bruce stood, careful to balance his youngest in his arms, and jolted when he saw that Jason was asleep on the couch as well.

Bruce couldn't help the smile on his face as he walked over to the son he had once lost, and gazed tenderly at his son pouting and frowning in his sleep.

In his dreams, Jason was running away from a cartoonishly large pair of floating lips that looked not unlike Dick's. When the lips caught up to him, Jason in real life gave a small whine of discontent, as the dream lips hoovered him in Purifying Kissies.

Bruce gently ran a finger down the crease between Jason's brows, smoothing out the tension. A flash of inspiration bit him, and Bruce carefully placed Damian on Jason's stomach, to that the brothers were lying on each other, belly to belly. Then, he called Dick.

"Dick," he whispered.

"Yeah?" Dick whispered back.

"Come here."

Dick waddled over, and promptly melted into his true form - an unintelligible mass of goo that fed off of the world's squee. Many pictures were taken and much cooing was done.

Father and son left the two asleep, and plodded down to the Purity Room to check on Tim. Tim was in the Purity Pool, treading water and looking disgruntled, only his little head poking out of the otherwise still water.

"Well, Tim, I hope that you're using this time to reflect on your actions," Bruce said.

"Yeah, I get it," Tim muttered. "I'll keep you up to date about developments in my love life."

"Any life events, I should know," Bruce said. "After all, I only want to protect you."

"You don't need to protect me from Kon."

"Oh ho ho, that's what you think," Bruce said. "Young man, I have been on many space missions. You have no idea what alien anatomy is capable of."

Tim's eyebrows hiked up in interest. "Do go on."

"Male pregnancy is not unheard of- wait no!" Bruce yelled. "Stop having ideas! Back into the purity pool!"

"Aw, Timmy's plans are foiled," Tim said, slinking back into the water. "But Timmy will have his revenge. Timmy will post SuperBat fanfic of Batman mpreg."

"What? I didn't understand any of that," Bruce said.

Dick patted his arm. "Don't worry, Bruce, its therapeutic for Tim."

Bruce didn't fully understand, but relented. That is, until he heard a chirp emnating from next to him. He looked around, but saw nothing. Still, his Bat-senses tingled like a willy that had just been dipped into a glass of lemon juice. "Who's there? Show yourself!"

"Meep!"

Bruce glared at the air. "Coward! Come forward!"

"Meep meep!"

Bruce located the noise and looked down, still seing nothing...but wait! A speck of dust, apparently, was bouncing around on the ground, making little squeaks. Bruce rushed to trap the dust mite, but was stopped by Tim's shriek.

"No! You'll hurt him!"

Bruce glared, the situation suddenly coming together. "Who will I hurt, Tim?"

Tim dithered. "Er...um...no one."

"Oh? Then you won't mind if this little bug were to be...squished-"

"No!" Tim wailed, pouncing forward, and cupping his hands around the bug. "Don't hurt him, I love him!"

Bruce stood to his full height, glowering. "Tim."

"Yeah?"

"Is. That. A. Nanobot."

"...Yes," Tim admitted defeatedly.

"And are there more?"

"..."

"TIM!"

"Komy was lonely! I had to give him siblings!"  
"Siblings."  
"Yes! Timmy has made an army of sentient nanobots who have created a thriving civilzation of their own! The eldest is Komy, who is the general, and his siblings are his lieutenants Druce, Jamian, Calfred, Starbara, and Cliana!"

"...You mashed our friends and family's names together."

"Though Timmy values his alone time, he is a creature of love and treasures his dear ones."

"I can't believe you names a nanobot Komy."

"It is a mashup of Kon and Timmy, eternal soulmates."

"Uh ho, you thought about Superboy, back to the Purity Pool," Bruce sang. Grumbling, Tim went back into the pool. Bruce handed him a white bar from the side. "Here, use some Purity Soap."

"Bruce!"

Bruce just grinned, as Tim defeatedly rubbed his armpits with the bar of soap. Drawn by the noise, Damian waddled in, rubbing his eyes sleepily.

"Father, you are here," he grumbled, allowing Dick to pick him up. "I thought you were gone."

"I wouldn't leave you, Damian" Bruce reassured him.

"But you did! You left me on Todd's hairy stomach! So hirsute is he, that the hairs poke through his shirt, and disturbed my most refined skin with his brutish, common, lawn of hair and his salty follicle vomit!"

"Oh my god, follicle vomit," Tim grinned. "I'm totally stealing that."

Damian peered at Tim. "Why are you in a pool, Drake?"

"Tim was overtaken by lustful demons," Bruce lectured, "Therefore, in order to cleanse himself of his sinful thoughts, he is soaking in the Purity Pool."

Damian gasped and ran out, leaving Bruce, Dick, and a dripping Tim to lookafter him in bewilderment. "Oh! Do you think that the demon talk scared Dami?" Dick asked worriedly, like an overconcerned emu.

Bruce rolled his eyes at Dick's fretting, and before he could remind his son that Damian was the descendent of literal demons, his little hellspawn burst back in, waving a bundle of sage. "Leave this corpus, the body of mine brother, demon!" Damian shouted, setting the sage alight with a pilfered lighter. "Begone! Flee, trembling piteously at the power of my exocism!" Damian dunked the sage in the pool of water Tim was sitting in, and then splashed the befuddled teen repeatedly.

Tim shrieked and paddled to the other side, prompting Damian to jump into the pool and swim after him, pelting him with little bits of sage, convinced that his little ritual was working. Meanwhile, Bruce picked up the discarded lighter and eyed it. "This isn't mine," he said. "I don't smoke. I know that you don't smoke, Dick-"

"No! Never!" Dick emphasized. "It's so bad for you! We need to stay in fighting shape beat up all the baddies!"

Bruce snorted. "It's not Tim's," he said, "he gags at the smell of oregano, he can't handle tobacco."

"Really?" Dick asked. "But then how does his wee nosey tolerate the pungent smells that Gotham is awash with during crimes?"

"Nose filters," Bruce said, frowning. "So this lighter is..." Bruce's eyes widened with horror. "Alfred's!?"

There was a pointed snort from behind them, and they whirled around to see Jason standing behind them, pointedly itching his stomach through his shirt. "Oh, hey, my lighter," he said, plucking it out of Bruce's hand. "Why're Replacement and Hellspawn in a pool?"

Dick gasped tremulously, and surged forward like a wave to plant his hands on Jason's chest worriedly. "Little Wing! You smoke?"

Jason tried to walk back, but Dick was seemingly glued to him with the power of his supernatural love. "Get off, Dick!"

"But it's so bad for you, Jay! Think about your little lungs!"

"My lungs are not little, noob," Jason growled, "and it's a coping mechanism. Shove off."  
Dick took these words as an invitation to lay his head on Jason's chest. "Oh, Little Wing! All I want for you is to have mental and emotional stability with healthy support mechanisms, not a debilitating crutch!"

"Dick, none of us have emotional stability, our father dresses up as an animal and fights crime and lts us do the same," Jason said, hesitantly patting a quavering Dick on his back.

"Jason," Bruce spoke softly so as not to rouse his son's ire, "lad, you know that you have to quit, don't you?" As Jason started to bristle, Bruce quickly added, "we need to be at the peak of physical fitness, and smoking will actively hinder that."

"This is true, Todd," Damian spoke up. "Think of your mission to end the evil in Gotham! How will you slay the villains of your past when you are held back with your vile, smelly habit, you poor fool?"

Jason glared at the little shrimp in the pool, but admitted that he had a point. Talia had always been on his tail about quitting anyway, and now with his entire family pouncing on the "Love Jason" train, the pressure had quintupled.

"Alfred will be heartbroken to know that you smoke," Tim bubbled from the far end of the pool, his one well-aimed comment hitting the jackpot.

Jason felt his contrariness quail in the face of diasppointing Alfred, the image of tears in the wizened old eyes of his stabbing him in his most vulnerable spot, the Grandpa-thalamus.

"Aw, damnit," Jason huffed, defeated.

Dick perked right up. "Oh Jaybird, you've seen the light, I'm so glad! We'll work together as a family to help you deal with quitting!"

"Cass has some nicotine patches in her drawer to start off with," Tim supplied.

Bruce gasped and staggered so that he fell against the wall. His Cassandra, his little princess...smoking? No! It couldn't be!  
"Bruce, relax, Cass actually helped Steph quit when she picked up the habit for a while," Tim reassured him. "Steph only did it for like, three months, and then she quite too. She was going througha rough time, and well,' Tim peered slyly at Jason, "was looking for coping mechanisms. She's quit now."

Bruce put a shaking hand to his head. Oh those horrid children of his, doing things behind his back and being supportive of each other.

Meanwhile, Jason was tired of being psychoanalyzed, and decided to teach Tim a lesson by removing his clothes and cannonballing into the pool. Too late, Tim realized that he was doomed, as Jason landed with an almighty splash. Damian was buffetted out of the pool with the resultant wave, and was carried, magically, straight into Dick's arms, where Dick turned into a suburban mother from the 50's and began towelling him dry while humming pleasantly.

While Damian relished this maternal outpouring, Jason chased Tim around the pool, the younger boy screaming thinly for mercy, knowing full well that he would be afforded none.

Bruce watched all of his sons, a warm feeling oozing through his veins. His family was together, and for once, completely happy.

And come hell or high water, he was going to fight to keep it that way.


End file.
